


Hopping

by liionne



Series: A thousand ways to meet [32]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Traveling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-11
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-15 08:58:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1299124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liionne/pseuds/liionne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was to be the honeymoon of a lifetime, as far as Leonard was concerned. He was finally marrying his childhood sweetheart, the girl of his dreams, and when they’d finally tied the knot and tied a lot of other knots in the hotel room (Jocelyn was a kinky bastard when she wanted to be) they’d jet off to start their two-month European Tour honeymoon.</p><p>And then Leonard was stood up at the alter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Barcelona

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd, and multi-chaptered to try to get the most of this scenario!

It was to be the honeymoon of a lifetime, as far as Leonard was concerned. He was finally marrying his childhood sweetheart, the girl of his dreams, and when they’d finally tied the knot and tied a lot of _other_ knots in the hotel room (Jocelyn was a kinky bastard when she wanted to be) they’d jet off to start their two-month European Tour honeymoon.

And then Leonard was stood up at the alter.

But he had paid a fuck tonne for that trip, so he wasn’t about let it go to waste.

He stayed alone in the hotel room, the hotel room that was supposed to act as shelter for Leonard and Jocelyn on their first night as a married couple. They were supposed to wake up in the afterglow, still a little drunk from champagne and sort of sick from too-sweet chocolates, and then they were supposed to lay in bed till they had no choice but to get up or miss their flight.

Instead, Leonard woke up alone and cranky, hungover half to hell and wishing he was dead.

He got on the flight to Barcelona with blood shot eyes and a wicked headache. He’d closed his eyes and settled into his chair, and tried to ignore the sound of the engines as they whirred to life and the plane took off. Jocelyn was meant to be there to hold his hand; Leonard was shit scared of flying.

Leonard curled his fingers into the arm rests instead, ignoring the empty seat by his side.

~*~

It was a ten hour flight to Barcelona. Ten hours of Leonard’s fingers digging into the armrest, his knuckles turning white with the exertion. When they landed, he almost fell to his knees and kissed the ground he stepped onto.

Barcelona was colder than Georgia, but only by a few degrees. Leonard didn’t feel any colder when he stepped into the glorious sunshine, pulling his sunglasses down over his eyes.

The hotel was a twenty minute taxi ride from the airport, and when Leonard pulled up outside, he knew the extortionate price he’d paid was probably worth it. It looked like a real honeymoon hotel.

Shame he wasn’t on his honeymoon.

He spent the first day wallowing. He moped around the hotel, sat in his room, and moped a little bit more. He was in Barcelona for five days, and he spent the entirety of the first day in his room, and the majority of the first night in the bar.

He spent the second morning throwing up into the horrifically expensive toilet.

He slept for the rest of the second day.

On the third day he decided that moping was not in his best interests.

So he started by going to the beach. Back home in Georgia, when he and his little sister were younger, their parents had carted them across the state to Savannah from Atlanta. They would stay with Leonard’s grandparents, Eleanora’s mother and father, and when the waves were high and the sun was hot enough, they’d troop out to the beach, and Leonard’s father would take him surfing. Since his father’s health began to deteriorate, Leonard hadn’t spent a lot of time surfing.

But now he went out - the beach was only a half an hour’s walk away. So Leonard changed into a pair of shorts and a loose white t-shirt, the first time he’d changed since he’d arrived in Barcelona, and made his way to the beach.

He did the same on the fourth day; he and Jocelyn had so many trips planned, but he didn’t go on any of them. He stayed away from the old churches and the gothic cities and the parks.

He stayed at the beach, and he surfed.

On the fifth day he was just coming out of the surf, pushing wet bangs out of his eyes with damp fingers, when he heard a wolf whistle erupt from somewhere to his left.

“I feel like I’m watching Baywatch. Am I watching Baywatch?”

There was a giggle, and Leonard half-turned in the direction the noise was coming from. There was a guy lying on the beach, elbows digging into the sand to prop him up. His hair was the colour of the sand, his eyes the colour of the sea. He was the personification of the beach, as far as Leonard could tell. But Leonard was quickly distracted by the kid’s bare chest, his toned stomach, and the jut of his hipbones where his shorts had slipped too low-

Leonard quickly directed his gaze away, to the left. The girl beside the guy was different. Her skin was a olive colour, and her hair a shade of red Leonard didn’t think had actually existed as a human genome. It looked painted on.

Maybe it was.

She pursed her lips, obviously to hide more giggles. The guy just grinned, sunglasses propped up just behind his hairline.

“I’m sorry. Were you talking about me?” Leonard demanded.

The guy grinned. “Who else, Mitch?”

The redhead burst into another fit of giggles.

Leonard just rolled his eyes, and headed back to the shed he’d rented the board from.

“Aw, c’mon! I wasn’t doing watching the show.”

The blonde guy was up on his feet, following after Leonard with a blinding grin. He padded through the sand after him, catching up with relative ease.

“There was no show, dumbass.” Leonard snapped. “So go back to your girlfriend.”

“Who, Gaila? She’s not my girlfriend. I wouldn’t want you, of all people, to get the wrong impression.” He grinned.

Leonard’s eyes narrowed as he handed the board back over the counter. “Me of all people?”

“You of all people.” He continued to grin. “You, who I’m totally going to go for drinks with, and then bang in the hotel jacuzzi.”

Leonard’s nose wrinkled. “As fun as that sounds, I’m going to pass.”

“It will be fun.” The guy nodded. “You’ll be missing out.”

“Shame.” Leonard said, shrugging. He’d stowed his bag behind the counter too, paid an extra euro for it to be kept safe, and he took it back as the guy behind the counter handed it to him. “Because I’m still going to pass.”

“Well call me if you want me.” He said, talking to Leonard’s back as he walked towards the street. “Name’s Jim Kirk, Room 248, Condado Hotel!”

Leonard didn’t answer. Didn’t turn around.

He just kept going.


	2. Paris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He joined the back of the group, and was taken aback by what he saw.
> 
> It was the guy. Jim. Jim From Barcelona.
> 
> Leonard kept his eyes on the floor and hoped he didn’t notice him.

He didn’t think much about the kid, unless Leonard decided to count the way he had undressed him in his head, and then wondered how that sex in the jacuzzi would have went whilst he entertained himself with his right hand.

He got on a plane the next day to Paris. It was only an hour and a half’s flight time, and he felt a lot better when he got off the plane at Charles de Gaulle than he had when he’d got off at Barcelona-El Prat.

Paris itself, however, was sickening.

There were couples everywhere, left right and centre. They followed Leonard around like a bad smell, hung around every corner, just _waiting_. Waiting for him to catch them and be reminded of the wife who was not his wife, the fiancee who had left him at the altar for the very same men she’d left for Leonard, no doubt. They held hands, they kissed, they walked with arms wrapped around one another.

And Leonard, like the cantankerous, stubborn bastard he now was, when about his business as if they didn’t exist.

He had a day to rest and get used to the surroundings, and then on the first proper day he went to the Louvre. He decided to forgo the tour he and Jocelyn were supposed to go on, and went around by himself instead.

On the second day he went to the Jardin de Luxembourg, and toured the pretty gardens with the camera he’d decided to buy from the hotel gift shop.

On the third day he went to the Eiffel Tower, but he didn’t go up. He would have went up if he had been with Jocelyn, but it seemed his aviophobia stemmed to a fear of heights too, so he was grounded for the time being, looking up at the tower, snapping photographs.

He was sure he saw a flash of blonde hair and a mop of red curls, but he couldn’t be sure. He was just seeing things, he was sure.

On the fourth day, he toured the street. Did nothing. _Mooched_. It was good, too. He went to a wine tasting just for the kicks.

On the fifth day he went to the Catacombs. Jocelyn hadn’t want to go to the Catacombs, and Leonard had been disappointed.

The joke was well and truly on her.

The tour was an hour and a half long, and Leonard signed himself up with a buzzing in his veins. It was going to be creepy as shit down there.

He joined the back of the group, and was taken aback by what he saw.

It was the guy. _Jim_. Jim From Barcelona.

Leonard kept his eyes on the floor and hoped he didn’t notice him.

But it was like the kid had a sixth sense. A sixth sense that told him when Leonard was nearby, because he turned around, as if he had the feeling something was there, and his eyes lit up.

“Hey Gaila, look. It’s Mitch!”

Leonard deflated slightly. He looked up at Jim with narrowed eyes. “What are you doing here?” He snapped.

“We’re backpacking across Europe.” Jim explained, looking to Gaila before looking back to Leonard. “What are /you/ doing here.”

“Touring Europe.” Leonard muttered. The tour guide had began to speak.

“He’s taking the gun show on tour.” Gaila said. She had a thick accent- Irish, Leonard thought. “And I can totally see why - I’d kill to see that again.”

“There was no show.” Leonard snapped, but Gaila simply giggled as she turned away.

When the tour began to move, heading down a spiral staircase, Leonard thought that might be it. Jim might leave him alone, and get on with the tour.

Oh, how wrong he was.

“You didn’t call.” He said. Leonard could have sworn that he looked honestly upset.

However, he rolled his eyes. “You really expected me to?”

Jim shrugged. “Yeah.”

Leonard shook his head, trying to listen to what the guide was saying. He found, however, that he had lost interest. Because no matter how hard he tried to deny it, he had thought about that kid more than once, more than just that one night in Barcelona. He’d been away from home for seven nights since he’d met Jim, and he’d spent at least six of those nights with Jim on his mind and his hand in his pants. It was understandable if leonard was a little distracted.

It felt wrong though. Wrong to be thinking about someone else when his wife had just ditched him. He still felt committed, like she had just been really late, or she’d been in an accident or something. That it wasn’t by choice that she had missed the wedding.

He knew that he was wrong, but it was a small comfort, at least.

What was also wrong was the way Jim’s ass looked in skinny jeans.

“You know, you never even introduced yourself.” Jim whispered.

Leonard frowned. “Neither did you.”

“I did too.” Jim retorted, his brow furrowing. Leonard felt like he wanted to smooth out the little line that appeared between his eyebrows, but he refrained.

“You yelled your name and address at me. That’s hardly an introduction.” He argued.

Jim grinned. “I should’ve known you’d want something more formal. Southern gent like you.”

“Shut up.” Leonard hissed.

The tour guide gave them judgy eyes, and turned away, back to the tour.

Jim held out his hand discreetly to Leonard. “My name’s James Tiberius Kirk. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Leonard Horatio McCoy.” Leonard returned, shaking his hand. “Pleasure’s all mine.”

Jim snorted, and giggled softly. “Horatio.”

“Quit it, _Tiberius_.”

Jim’s face straightened out completely, and Leonard thought it was at his ribbing. He smirked smugly, quite happy with getting Jim to shut up, when he realised that the tour guide was glaring at them again. There were daggers in her eyes. Leonard shut up too, casting his eyes to the floor.

When the resurfaced from the Catacombs, Leonard felt like he’d learned nothing about them. Maybe he’d take the tour again, when he could be sure that Jim wouldn’t be on it.

Jim was about to bid him farewell at the exit, when he paused. “We’re staying at the Hotel Jules. They’ve got a nice bar. You should come for drinks.”

Leonard thought about it. Considered it.

It felt like cheating.

“I can’t.” he said, head shaking. “Got an early flight in the morning.”

Jim nodded. “Right.”

Leonard ignored how dejected he looked.

“Where are you going next?” He asked.

Jim shrugged. “Not sure.”

“I want to go to London.” Gaila said, leaning into their conversation. She’d been stood a few steps back before, examining a map. Leonard knew she was listening.

“Well then,” Leonard said. “I might see you there.” It was really the best thing he could think of. A compromise for not going out with Jim tonight. His next destination was London, after all. He could… meet up.

Jim’s grin told Leonard that he understood. He understood completely.

“Yeah, maybe.” He said. He looped his arm through Gaila’s, and pulled her off in the direction of the street. “See ya, Bones!”

Pointedly ignoring the new nickname, Leonard headed back to his hotel.

He really did have to pack, after all.


	3. London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe if he kept quiet and didn’t say anything, he’d be able to slip away from them when they got there. No, that was mean. What if he continued to keep quiet, and then said he felt sick when they got there? No one would drag the sick guy onto the World’s Biggest Ferris Wheel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the really _really_ slow updates on this one. It's getting there, though!

The flight from Paris to London was hardly enjoyable - no flight was enjoyable if you were Leonard H. McCoy - but he managed. The traffic in London meant it took an hour to get to his hotel, and he was so frustrated that when he finally got into his room, he slept. He slept for almost two days.

On the first proper day of his holiday, he just went for a walk. He walked around London, went to a few cafes, charmed people with his Southern-ness and got a few free coffees. He walked around the Houses of Parliament, and big ben.

On the second day he went and actually did things. He went to the Natural History Museum, knowing that this wouldn’t have been a good place to visit with Jocelyn. She hated stuff like this, always had. School field trips had been a nightmare.

From the way Jim was bouncing on the steps leading up to the museum, Leonard presumed he didn’t share his ex-fiancees views.

He wasn’t surprised to see Jim; he approached him as if he was meant to meet him there, and when Jim saw him, his face lit up.

“Bones!”

There it was again. The nickname.

Leonard’s nose wrinkled, but he said nothing about it.

“Fancy seeing you here.” Gaila grinned.

“Small world.” Leonard replied.

Jim was beaming like an idiot.

“You going in?” Leonard asked, looking at the doors and then back at Jim and Gaila.

Jim nodded. “C’mon!”

He looped his arm through Gaila’s again, and grabbed hastily for Leonard’s hand.

Leonard didn’t have the heart to argue.

They visited each and every gallery, walked round all of them. Gaila dragged them to the Red Zone first, and Jim spouted more useless facts about volcanoes than Leonard thought even existed. They looked at the rocks and the minerals, looking at the diamonds and the precious stones. They went to the dinosaur exhibit, and Leonard watched as Jim’s eyes widened, moreso even than the small child that walked hand-in-hand with his parents behind them.

Leonard couldn’t help making comparisons between the two of them.

They went to the Central Hall and met Dippy the diplodocus when they were done in the Red zone, and looked at the very first edition of On the Origin of Species. Gaila was fascinated.

“If I wasn’t going to be a master hacker,” She said, staring at the book with wide emerald eyes. “I’d totally be a biologist.”

Jim nodded thoughtfully. Leonard just raised his eyebrows.

Master hacker. Nice.

They went to look at the fossils and the skeletons, and Jim titled his head, trying to find all the differences he could. It was hard to see with the skull behind the glass display box, hidden by dust and dirt and fingerprints.

Leonard decided to help him out. The human skeleton was one of his areas of expertise, after all. It had been a massive question on his Intern test.

“See the skull’s not as rounded as ours is, and the brow bone’s a lot more defined, the forehead a little lower.” Jim looked on in wonder as Leonard spoke, nodding to show that he understood. “The chin’s a lot shorter than ours, and they’ve got a little hole just under the molar, right there.” Leonard pressed his fingertip to the glass, and he suddenly understood why there were so many fingerprints on it to begin with.

Gaila looked from the skull, to Leonard, back to the skull, and then back to Leonard.

“How did you know all that?” She asked.

“I’m a doctor.” Leonard answered.

Jim snorted softly. In question, Bones raised an eyebrow.

“Bones.” Jim said softly. He snorted again, and straightened up. “Keep moving!” He declared.

Jim and Gaila dragged him around the rest of the museum, and then out onto the steps as they left. Jim urged Bones into the back of a taxi, taking his hand to tug him in.

“Where are we going now?” He demanded, frowning as he looked over at Gaila and Jim.

“The London Eye, of course!” Gaila grinned.

The blood drained from Bones’ face.

Maybe if he kept quiet and didn’t say anything, he’d be able to slip away from them when they got there. No, that was mean. What if he continued to keep quiet, and then said he felt sick when they got there? No one would drag the sick guy onto the World’s Biggest Ferris Wheel.

Bones had a feeling that absolutely none of the ideas he was coming up with would work.

When they finally got to the Eye, Jim tugged him by the hand again. But, rather than the solid mass, willing to come but a little slow, that there was before, there was now a dead weight.

“Bones.” Jim said sternly. He wasn’t going to budge on this, Bones could tell already.

“Yeah, I don’t feel so good. You go on ahead, kid. I’ll call you later.” Bones said, trying to shrug and settle back into the taxi.

Jim’s eyes narrowed. “You weren’t sick ten minutes ago.”

“I’m sick now.” He retorted.

Jim stood holding his hand. Bones was pretty sure he wasn’t going to let go.

The cabby coughed.

“ _Fine_.” Bones snapped, sliding out along the seat and standing up.

Jim dragged him towards the line, but Gaila had to take over eventually. Jim’s force tugging on his hand just wasn’t enough to urge on the sluggish doctor.

“I hate you two.” He all but snarled, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Jim looped his arms around his waist, slipping his arms through the gap between Leonard’s arms and his body. He was closer than he’d ever been.

“C’mon, Bonesy. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

His grin didn’t set Leonard at ease like it maybe should have.

When they were prompted, they stepped forward into one of the pods. Gaila went first and Jim went last, sandwiching Bones between the two of them. Bones didn’t have time to hesitate when he reached the door; Jim squeezed his ass, causing him to give a slightly undignified yelp as he leaped forward.

The door shut, and locked. Bones gulped. He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. He could feel it moving beneath them, stopping every so often, taking them higher and higher.

After what felt like an absolute age, the car stopped, and Gaila whistled.

“Woah.” Jim said. “Bones. Bones you gotta come see this.”

“No I don’t.” He said, sounding more haggard than angry.

There was a pause, and then a hand slipped into his. When he opened his eyes, Jim was stood so close, his breath hitting off Bones’ face. He looked worried.

“What’s wrong, Bones?”

Bones  gave another audible gulp, and focused on Jim’s face rather than the view behind. “Don’t like heights. That’s all.”

“Oh.” Jim murmured.

He paused, before he tilted his head up to kiss Bones.

And suddenly all of the weight left his body.

Bones felt absolutely weightless, like air. Like he could float back down to the ground if he really wanted to. He leaned into the kiss, pressing his lips harder to Jim’s. There were other people in the car, but if they had any prejudice against the homosexuals, none of them said anything. Either they were too fixated on the view or just didn’t care. Bones didn’t care what any of them thought.

When Jim pulled away it was because air was a necessity. They moved back to the ground slowly, the car moving inch by inch towards the ground.

“How do you feel about heights now?” He asked, his hands still on Bones’ waist.

Bones paused before he answered. “Indifferent.”

The kiss he pressed to Jim’s lips showed how he _certainly_ didn’t feel that way about Jim.


End file.
